


One Peace

by hisboywriter



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisboywriter/pseuds/hisboywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi and Eren have a moment of peace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Peace

 

 

**One Peace**

 

**-X-**

 

Peace came with the night.

 

Levi knew it was a convoluted sentiment, but people clung to tranquility when they could. Less a time to bask in the stillness of the sky and more a respite to gather the fraying remains of wit, courage, and sanity to bear the coming day. Another day where some would break, many would die, and all wanted to survive.

 

Levi found no serenity in the night or knowing others did. Neither did his horse. She nudged him as he stroked her muzzle, no doubt sensing the task before her once the sun rose, and the Titans that stampeded under its guidance.  

 

The expedition loomed over them like a Titan in it of itself. He knew many would find no solace in sleep tonight, so the sound of books clicking and crunching gravel didn’t deter him from his mare. If anything, his hand paused upon recognizing the gait the first set of books belonged to.

 

“Corporal…”

 

Even in human form, Eren strode with purpose, directionless as it was sometimes. Now he lingered at the edge of the stable, stupidly surprised to see Levi there. Flanking his back, Petra supplied a slight smile and shrug that said enough about Eren’s state of mind.

 

“Oh.” Eren stumbled over what to say next, or perhaps merely flustered at not having saluted. He remedied that in a heartbeat, his fist clenched too tight over his heart.

 

Levi returned his visual attention to his horse. “You’re little use sleep-deprived.”

 

“What about you?”

 

Levi glanced over, noting the lines creasing Eren’s face, the way both hands clenched at his sides. It wasn’t the sign of someone who didn’t know what to do with them, rather the opposite. The brat wanted nothing more than to have his Titan-hands locked around a Titan until its eyes bulged out.

 

“I’m not the one a squad was created for,” Levi answered.

 

The moon hung thick in the sky tonight, offering all the light necessary to display Eren’s blush.

 

His head lowered. “That’s not…”

 

Levi’s horse made a soft sound and nudged her owner’s arm again. Eren lifted his head and, just like that, his features softened. With no hesitation, he drew closer and said, “She really likes you.”

 

“She’s familiar with me.” Levi’s tone added the underscoring lesson: _as it should be_.

 

“I think it’s more than that,” Eren said.

 

“An expert on animals, are you,” Levi said. It would be humorous to another’s ears, suggesting that the Titan-shifter, no better than a cur in some eyes, would speak on behalf of another beast.

 

Eren chuckled, a tattered sound that somehow sounded more assuring than anything the night could give. “No, just…a feeling.”

 

Of course it was a feeling. What else could be expected from a kid who had, again and again, shaken loose from death on impulsiveness  and tenacity alone? Some would call it luck, others would proclaim it a sign. Already plenty of men and women lifted their sagging hopes higher because of Eren and what he represented.

 

Levi allowed his horse a final lick before he withdrew.

 

“Feelings alone won’t guarantee survival,” he said. A subtle gesture and Patra, who had maintained a respectful distance (but had a zealous ear) obediently slipped away.

 

Eren looked at him, his posture straightening. “Yes, sir,” he said, and he didn’t look away as he continued with, “but they give a reason to keep living.”

 

Among other things. Levi knew well enough what feelings could do, have done, and would continue to do until humanity’s existence trickled out—or was torn out in chunks if the Titans got their way. One didn’t need to be a soldier to know that, but its lessons felt compounded in the wake of so much blood.

 

Eren himself was testament to that.

 

In spite of that, through Eren stood with proper form and spoke respectfully, sentimentality exuded from every fiber. Levi’s present company had done nothing to influence that, which stunned those who muttered to any willing ear the inhumanity of Corporal Levi or whispered of his elusive upbringing.

 

Surely Eren heard of one or two accounts on the matter, yet there he stood with an almost palpable interest in the young man that had beaten him bloody.

 

After a handful of steady heartbeats, Levi turned away from Eren. When he didn’t hear Eren’s boots follow, he tossed back, “Up here.”

 

“What? Oh, r-right!” Eren almost sounded relieved.

 

It was a matter of easy maneuvering through the cracks of the wall until they perched themselves atop the stable’s roof. Up here the quiet was paramount, the stretch of sky taking up most of their view. Eren watched Levi settle down before he took his spot just a few shimmies away.

 

“Wow,” Eren breathed, head tilting far up. “I’d almost forgotten how beautiful, well…anything could be. The walls usually block a lot of the view.”

 

Levi preferred the sky, though he wouldn’t call it beautiful. There was no word to construe what significance it had. Flight, escape, freedom were as close as it got, but those words rang hollow like platitudes in Levi’s mind. He could get a taste of it however, feel the kiss of the wind currents when grappling in the air during battle, and whatever coursed through his blood during those moments had given him something.

 

What it was or if would last, it didn’t matter.

 

Levi felt Eren’s stare on him, and for an instant he thought the brat was prying into his mind.

 

“The expedition will be in Titan country,” Levi reminded. “It won’t just be you out there among them.”

 

He heard Eren swallow hard. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it. Do you,” he paused, changed his trail of thought. “Some won’t make it back.”

 

Levi didn’t blink at the horizon as he replied, “No.”

 

“Does it…get easier?” Eren cleared his throat and shifted in his spot. “Nevermind. Sorry. That was a stupid question.”

 

Levi almost sighed. “I hate apologies,” he said.

 

“Oh. Right, sir…”

 

Age took no precedence in the face of war. They had all seen horrors that belonged in nightmares and many bore the faces that came from it. Determination. Fear. Tension. Detachment. Fewer juggled composure among them, too many forgot their laughter, almost all lost something precious.

 

Eren though. Levi had garnered all he needed the moment he and the kid exchanged words through metal bars. To this instant he continued to absorb data on the Titan-shifter, adjusting the picture that was Eren Jeager the longer he studied him.

 

The picture tumbling in his mind was an oxymoron.

 

He peered over at his ‘prisoner’, whose mind was not on the sky he was looking at. Joining the Survey Corps and having been at the bad end of Levi’s heel had reined in a modicum of Eren’s tongue, but it would forever be a work in progress. The kid was doing a cringe-worthy job of bottling himself in.

 

Levi looked away again. “I sleep,” he said suddenly.

 

Eren blinked at him. “Sleep…?”

 

“I said I sleep, contrary to what you might have heard.”

 

A beat. Then, Eren shook his head fiercely. “No, no one’s said anything,” he blanched when Levi gazed at him, “Well, rather…I suppose they’ve said some things.”

 

“Rely on what you see for yourself,” was all Levi would send his way. He should have stayed with his horse. Eren’s effect, however miniscule, was an effect all the same, maybe worse not unlike a virus that would not ebb. An ache pulsed against his temples.

 

“Yes, Corporal.” Levi could hear his smile.

 

The quiet settled on them for a while then, an uncomfortable, tangible presence that had Levi’s fingers itching to scrub it off. Some things could never be clean enough. Some spots would just never come out.

 

“Thank you,” Eren said.

 

Levi flicked his eyes at him and found a smile playing on Eren’s lips.

 

“For bringing me up here.” Eren didn’t say more for once, but it wasn’t required. He had gone out for fresh air, perhaps to clear his mind to allow for a better sleep, and he hadn’t found a fraction of peace on his own.

 

Levi refocused on the stars. Curious how a boy whose current impetus rose from hatred and vengeance could manage to sound, and look, so unlike that monstrosity that had bludgeoned Titans down into pulps.

 

“And again,” Eren went on, “for everything.”

 

Levi dragged his gaze to the moon, ivory and riddled with craters. There must have been something symbolic there, him and the Titan-shifter under the weight of the moon at this time of night. Levi didn’t have the faith to make more meaning of it.

 

“This vantage point,” Levi said, “offers a good view on what needs to be cleaned.”

 

“Not more cleaning?”

 

“You’re not here to sleep and play all day.”

 

Eren sighed. “I have a feeling nothing I clean would be up to standards.”

 

“All the more reason to put you to back-breaking work until you learn.”

 

Eren said nothing. After several minutes, about the time Levi was to hop off the roof and order the brat to bed, Eren shifted closer. A crack of space remained between them, the span of a finger. Eren brimmed with warmth, currents of it undulating over Levi. Curious he hadn’t felt the bite of the cold until now.

 

“Guess there will be more to clean after the expedition,” Eren said, looping his arms around his drawn up legs.

 

 _Some won’t make it back_ , he had said.

 

Impressions of Levi’s men crossed over his mind. He did not make the mistake of calculating whose likelihood of survival eclipsed over others. Things didn’t work out smoothly that way. Still, their faces flashed by as if it was already preparing to accept their loss.

 

“Corporal?”

 

Levi lifted his head, unsure when he had let it dip so low. Eren was studying his face intently, the heat of his presence like the sun itself.

 

“You’re still awake,” was all Levi said.

 

He thought Eren would blurt something out, poke into business he had no right poking into. Instead, Eren glanced down at Levi’s hand. It was balled up against a thigh; Levi relaxed it and stood up.

 

Eren started after him. “Where—“

 

“As I said, useless when sleep-deprived.”

 

Levi hopped down gracefully, with Eren dropping down hard behind him.

 

“Corporal,” he said again as he trailed after Levi’s heels.

 

Levi said nothing.

 

They reached the room Eren occupied and Levi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Taking notice of the silent order, Eren slipped in after an internal debate. Once inside he grasped the doorknob with enough force to have it squeak in protest.

 

Levi pushed off the wall. Whatever Eren mulled about regarding the mission was no burden of his to take. Yet before he could take two steps, Eren spoke. His voice held a power that rivaled his Titan’s strength: Levi stopped in mid-walk.

 

“I’m sure you know this,” Eren said after him, “but your subordinates…they really look up to you. Admire you even, I believe. I can see it in the smallest ways.”

 

Levi’s heart skipped two beats at the unsaid words. _They wouldn’t regret dying under your command._

****

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Eren added, quieter.

 

‘We'.  Not ‘they’.

 

Levi glanced back, but the door had already clicked shut.

 

**-X-**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
